Shout out to Sanima for an awesome review! This will be the last chapter for a few days, I have a deadline coming up, and my new bathtub apparently had installation issues. I have parts suddenly missing out of my living room ceiling as of this morning. Bad plumbers. :(


Stockholm was counting rocks. It was only mid-morning, but today was turning out to be the sort of monotonous scorcher that would have him banging off the scaffolding by noon. Once he finished with the pointed rocks, he started over with the rounded rocks, and considered moving on to vaguely square rocks when one of the caravan traders swung into sight. He grinned and started mumbling.

"Oh this'll be good. Not exciting but I can people watch, and maybe get some stories out of them." He called back over his shoulder. "LUCAS! Trader coming!"

Simms came up from the bowl. "Which one is it? Walter needs scrap and Doc Church wants to restock his supplies."

"They're both out of luck unless he's picked up some random gear, 'cause it's Crow. Looks like he's got a new guard and dog too...waitaminnut. Hey it's the Vault kid!"

"Whaaat?"

"Yeah, and it doesn't look like she frenched a fission battery this time around. The dog's wearing clothes. Different."

Simms rubbed a hand over his face and reminded himself to get Stockholm the radio he'd been pestering for. He was getting squirrely up there with no stimulation. "Well tell her I'll see her when she gets in, I have to go tell the merchants Crow's in."

"Uh, okay. I just have to wait for her to finish frenching Crow."

"Whaaat?"


Cort broke off and grinned, blushing like crazy. "Sorry."

Crow blinked and then smiled. "For what? If this is how you choose to part, I can only hope the Spirits may bring us together again for multiple farewells."

"Yeah well, I've been wanting to do that for a while and it's probably my last chance to see you for the near future." Cort started hauling sacks down and arranging them on the ground, her face burning harder than ever. I am a giant dork. I'm freaking queen of the giant dorks. "I'll set up and handle any business so you can find yourself a new guard, huh? And stay out here till you finish, my crap can wait a little while longer."

"As you wish." Still smiling, Crow went through the gate and headed for Simms as the first customers started out towards Cort.

"Well hey there sunshine! Aren't you looking all fit and perky! Oh, you got some battle scars too! Very dashing."

"Moira!" Cort tackled the cheery woman and spun her around in a bear hug, then stood back sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just great to see another nice face I know."

"Oh don't you fret a bit honey, I'm not one to criticize some enthusiasm! How did you end up working for Crow?"

"After I did a couple, um, things in Springvale I decided to, to explore, around farther North. That's where I got Dogmeat too!" Cort frantically gestured to where the dog was attentively hovering over Crow's merchandise, keeping an eye on the people browsing. "Anyway, I got together with Crow after a radscorpion attacked the caravan and killed his guard. Moira, I have learned so much getting back here."

"Well good for you, I knew you'd land on your feet out here, clever little thing! Now, you didn't manage to find anything interesting out there, did ya?"

Cort grinned. "Well, how would you feel about a fully intact combat inhibitor from a Robobrain?" She winced at Moira's squeal. "That good, huh?"


After a satisfying morning of dickering, Cort repacked everything and sat down in the shade of the Brahmin to wait, Dogmeat lying on his back beside her, paws dangling in the air. She looked up when a voice above hailed her.

"Hey Vault kid! Sheriff wants to see you whenever you make it in. Didn't want to tell you while you were busy."

Cort frowned and yelled back up. Thanks, uh?"

"Stockholm. I'm up here in the guard tower."

"Thanks, Stockholm."

She reached over and started playing with the end of Dogmeat's tail, watching Deputy Weld totter about. The last thing she wanted to do was spend time listening to Simm's excuses again. Granted, he had been right about Moriarty, but she was still unbelievably pissed over being lied to. She just wasn't sure if it was because of the lie or because it came out of the first person she met on the outside, and one that she had trusted. A lot of her altruistic illusions had been shattered lately, and Simms had been a watershed moment after making it out of 101 alive. Cort was being forced to see and survive in shades of grey when she was at heart a black and white kind of person. It didn't mean that she couldn't compromise to come to a solution, but when it involved bending her sense of right and wrong it was infuriating, particularly when she went ahead and did it anyway for personal benefit.

Bothering her now was the feeling that her moral spectrum was shifting. She was experiencing a dark sort of mirth with a maddening regularity every time she started killing things. It had been alarming enough when brought on by stress, but now she was starting to enjoy it. It was starting to feel right. There hadn't been any more mental snaps since Dogmeat had found her, and Crow had made her feel the closest to normal she had been since the last evening in the Vault, but she felt with a sinking certainty she would never be shut of them entirely. Something irreplaceable had broken.

"Cort? Arrangements have been completed to my satisfaction. It's time for me to move on to my next stop." Giving herself a little shake, Cort looked up at Crow, having lost herself for a while. Standing behind him was a middle-aged woman with a shaved head, combat armour and a wicked looking assault rifle.

"Sorry, daydreaming. You found someone then?" Pulling herself up, she knocked the dust from her legs as Dogmeat rolled over and started panting.

"Yes, this is Marion, a retired mercenary. She came highly recommended by Sheriff Simms, and should prove to be quite sufficient for my humble needs."

Cort held out a hand. "Hi Marion. I'm Cort." She got a brutal squeeze and pump before the other woman let go. Hiding her hand behind her thigh, she wiggled the fingers to get the blood back into them and made a polite smile.

"Yo. Pleasemeetcha."

Crow turned back to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "May the spirits of the wind guide you to your rightful path Cort. Which will include seeing me again, if I am blessed. You are a good companion." Cort tilted her cheek over onto one of his hands.

"Back at you Crow. I'll see you when I see you."

Letting go, Crow paused to rub Dogmeat's ears back and forth, then slapped the Brahmin into motion and headed into the Wasteland, Marion trailing behind. She's in my spot. I finally found another spot and I have to give it all up again. Thanks so much, Dad. Cort sat back down with an arm around her dog and watched until the caravan was entirely gone from sight.